Circles of life
by inkbender
Summary: What's the meaning to "life", when death is just another way of living in this afterlife high school? Ryder tries to find out before Soul Reapers end his "not-death" for good... Features the New Kids and Gleeks of season 4 primarily. Updates every Tuesday and Friday.
1. Ryder (1 of 4)

Ryder jerks into consciousness. Cold sweat slips down his brow. He's shaking and shivering and the low roar of conversation makes it ridiculously hard to think—

His befuddled state of mind only then catches up with him then: how did he not notice he was surrounded by people? There are hundreds of uniform-clad teenagers walking around him, their conversations blending rhythmically into a dull roar that flows straight into his head and makes it really hard to hear himself think. His hands immediately fly to his ears, feeling for the little sound dampeners that aren't there. He doesn't have a spatiotemporal tracker or an eye-lens implant on him either; nothing to orient himself to his surroundings.

He has no clue where he is… or how he got here in the first place. Last he remembers, he was in the middle of an interview—one that he really hadn't wanted to be in.

And now he's here, wearing the same school uniform that everybody else is. Khaki suit jacket over a white shirt and blue tie. Despite its stiff look, it feels just as fluid and flexible as his work outfit.

A foreign hand clamps itself aggressively onto his shoulder. Ryder doesn't think; he flies straight into action, yanking the guy's hand forward to throw him off balance, and, using his own shoulder as a pivot point, converting his opponent's sudden forward motion into a downwards thrust aided by gravity to send him sprawling. He leaps onto the guy's back, pinning his arms helplessly to the ground, and places a strong hand against the back of the blonde head. He briefly notices that the guy's school uniform is a completely different color—a black jacket, contrasted to the khaki color of everybody else around them. "What do you want?" he growls.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, man," the blonde shouts into the floor. "Easy there. A… a friend told me you'd be here. And here you were, looking pretty lost. So I thought you could do with some help."

"Why should I trust you?" he reconsiders the blonde's words. "Your friend? Did she set this up?"

"Do you come from a place where a friendly arm-around-the-shoulder actually means _I'm going to kill you now_?"

Ryder wrinkles his brow. His spatiotemporal tracker had the added function of identifying friendly and hostile parties; he guesses that he knows now what his default reaction to unidentified parties is. "Better safe than dead."

"Well," the blonde drawls. "You won't have to worry much about dying anymore."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a fact," growls a girl's voice behind him. Even though he's never heard the sound before, Ryder still freezes at the click of a weapon directly behind his head.

"Kitty, please don't shoot him," moans the blonde guy. "He just—"

Ryder's body is in motion at the word _shoot_. He cuts the blonde's words off as he shifts positions again—this time ensuring that the blonde is now an effective meat shield between him and the gun wielder. "Kitty" is thin and petite and also blonde and wearing the black school uniform, though Ryder's eyes are drawn straight to the very short black skirt and the tiny slice of skin shown beneath before being covered by thigh-high black stockings.

Only for a second, though, because the black gun pointed at his face is a lot more attention-grabbing than the girl's legs.

"Okay, you guys are making this a lot more complicated than it needs to be," the blonde boy complains, as if fully trusting that the trigger-happy girl pointing the gun won't actually shoot either of them.

Ryder isn't as confident. Kitty looks as if she's just _itching_ to pull the trigger. He holds his meat shield firmly in place, at the same time vaguely wondering why, in a high school hallway bustling with students, why nobody is even stopping to pay attention to the gun.

Said meat shield wiggles a little, trying to turn his face towards Ryder. "Hi, I'm Sam," he grins. "Welcome to the _Not Dead Battlefront_."

Kitty rolls her eyes. The gun doesn't move. "We are_ not_ calling ourselves _not-dead_."

This world just keeps making less and less sense. Maybe it's one of those newer immersive holographic games where you actually hook up your mind and physiological reflexes into an audiovisual generator, creating a literal full-body experience. He certainly feels like he's been dropped into the middle of a video game, surrounded by bickering non-playable characters currently holding a conversation about their state of living under what normally would be a life-or-death situation.

His ears catch a snippet of conversation that he can finally make sense of. He tightens his grip around Sam's neck to draw his attention. "What is this about not being able to die?"

"We can't die," Kitty states flatly. "Would you like me to prove it?"

"This is the worst team recruiting moment ever," moans Sam. "Seriously, Kitty, don't shoot him. He just got here and it definitely won't recruit him to our cause if you shoot him right off the bat."

Ryder tightens his grip, his muscles bulging around Sam's neck. The blonde chokes slightly. "What cause? Where is here?"

"Here is the afterlife," explains Kitty. "You're dead."

"Not-dead," Sam corrects, still struggling for air. "You're not-dead."

"Fine, you're not-dead," she sighs. "Happy now?"

Figuring that this meat shield situation isn't going to work in the slightest if nobody can really die, Ryder releases Sam from the choke hold. The blonde slumps to the ground, gagging for breath, while Ryder motions towards Kitty's weapon. "Why are you even bothering to threaten me with a weapon that can't kill me?"

A smile ghosts Kitty's lips. "Oh, it'll kill you." She aims the gun straight at Ryder's face as he realizes his mistake. "You'll die and it'll hurt like hell. But you won't stay dead."

"Correction: not-dead."

Kitty sighs in frustration. "Hence Sam's terminology: not-dead."

She emphasizes the word _dead_ with a first gunshot that Ryder barely avoids by dropping to his hands and knees. Almost instantly, he launches himself at her, tackling her right on. She gasps as they both fly back several feet; her second shot goes completely awry when he lands straight on top of her.

No screams. No mass panic. Just students rapidly clearing the hallway, as if suddenly remembering that class started five minutes ago and that they really shouldn't be standing around holding conversation amidst a life-or-death struggle.

Kitty tries to kick him off of her, but his hands catch fistfuls of her tight black sweater vest so that he remains on top of her. For just a second, he sees an overwhelming terror welling up in her eyes as he fights to remain on top and in control of the fight—and then all he can see is stars, because she just pulled a _frying pan_ out of freakin' _nowhere_ and clonked him over the head with it.

"Just not-die," growls Kitty. Before Sam can protest, she's expertly lodged her third bullet right between Ryder's eyes.


	2. Ryder (2 of 4)

Ryder jerks into consciousness for the second time in one day, with the memories fresh in his mind—the brief sting between the eyes, then nothingness. He's lying in a hospital bed, closed off from the rest of what he assumes to be a medical bay by a curtain.

He touches his forehead—clean, smooth, and unscarred. No entry wound. His mental capacities are running fairly well, as far as he can tell. He swings himself out of bed, testing his muscles. Everything seems to be fine. It's as if he never actually died.

Did the blonde girl really kill him?

As if on cue, the curtain swishes open, revealing the lean, muscled form of a furious man. "You! Princess! You threatened Kitty," he growls, unsheathing a ridiculously long sword. "Prepare to die!"

With no traditional devices to defend himself lying nearby, Ryder improvises by grabbing the bed behind him and throwing it at his attacker. It's a lot heavier than it looks; probably because it doesn't have any electromagnetic suspension that the biobeds he's familiar with have. Just plain metal and plastic—which the guy's sword doesn't have any trouble carving up into multiple flying chunks of debris.

Ryder's speechless; it's not even an energy saber or a sonic blade. It's just a thin metal sword—

Whoait'scomingstraightathim thisguyisridiculouslyfast. He barely slides underneath the blade in time. "Your girlfriend's the one who wanted to shoot first and ask questions later!" he yells, repeatedly leaping backwards as the guy thrusts and jabs at him, tossing as much ancient medical equipment as he can at the swordsman. No luck, though, as the guy easily bisects everything.

The guy's face seems to get angrier at this statement. "She's not my girlfriend!"

"Your sister?" The bulky brunette doesn't even look similar to the petite blond who may or may not have shot him earlier, but Ryder's got more pressing matters on his mind. He searches for openings in the guy's attack, but the long reach coupled with efficient swinging pattern prevents any possibility of slipping past towards freedom.

"_No!_" the guy roars, thrusting so far that the katana slices cleanly through his khaki suit jacket, through the white shirt underneath, and draws blood from his skin. Just a little scratch, but it brings on a flash of pain that tells Ryder that this is either the highly advanced simulation of an interplanetary training academy... or real life.

Either way, that means he can't actually be dead, can he?

If not, he soon will be: the black guy has been expertly cornering him, and now Ryder has nowhere left to go but forward, straight at his pissed opponent with his impenetrable guard.

"You pissed her off," his opponent growls, readying the sword for a stab through the chest. "Now just die, Princess."

What? Princess?

Ryder braces a foot against the wall behind him, prepared to launch himself the only feasible escape route—underneath the guy's arm—but the guy jerks suddenly, his eyes lolling upwards to look at the ninja star embedded halfway into his forehead.

"Shit, Tina," groans the guy as a stream of blood runs its way straight down the center of his face. Then he collapses bonelessly to the ground.

"Shit, Tina," crows a familiar voice from the other side of the room. Ryder glances at the entrance to the medical facility as Sam strolls in, followed by a girl with silken black hair whose face is mostly concealed by a long, black scarf. "Instant KO, man."

The girl immediately fades into a dark corner, folding her arms across her chest as Sam approaches Ryder. "Sorry about that," he says sheepishly. "Brody's kind of protective of Kitty."

Ryder glares at Sam. "Kind of?"

Sam shrugs. "Death doesn't mean much when you can't die."

"You guys keep saying that, but I'm preeetty sure this guy is very dead." Ryder nudges the limp body with his foot. Brody's blank eyes stare up at the ceiling lifelessly; the trail of blood down his face is starting to crust over.

"I'm pretty sure of that too," agrees Sam. "But not for long." He motions towards the exit. "Com'on, I'll take you to our headquarters."

* * *

Ryder loses his breath the moment they step outside.

The world he remembers had been all small spaces: tight tunnels and hallways, teleport pads, cramped quarters, high-density population.

This, in front of him, is open and free and wide, with buildings sparsely dotting the landscape around him and even less people walking around. Sunshine. A breeze tugging at his uniform. Sounds of nature that he'd only heard in simulations of peace and calm... though his ears, trained to pick up even the smallest sounds in the midst of combat, pick up on something he'd never heard in a nature scenario. "Is that… a cat?" he asks tentatively.

Sam's face flushes a furious red. "Ignore her. She's probably stuck in a tree; serves her right."

By turning his head, Ryder manages to pinpoint the unhappy cat's general position—sure enough, in a stand of trees near a courtyard. "What, you know this cat?" he inquires, looking back at Sam.

Sam's face turns a shade redder, if at all possible, and he quickly ushers Ryder into a school building. "I know that she's annoying," he mutters. "Here, follow me up here."

Sam quickly rushes up the nearest staircase, skipping every step in a hurry to reach the top. Ryder glances once more out to the tree with the cat stuck in it—it's got a height advantage, giving a great viewpoint of the entire cafeteria courtyard—before following Sam, one step at a time.

And then his foot lands on a squeaky step.

Sam yells something in panic, but Ryder can't really hear what the blonde had said over the sound of himself screaming as what feels like a million spears suddenly explode from the wall next to him, passing through his body on their way to the opposite wall.

If Ryder was unsure that Kitty had truly killed him the first time, he's pretty sure he's dead this time around.


	3. Ryder (3 of 4)

_Author's Note: My computer almost crashed during this week. Scary. I've got my files all backed up now! (To Google Drive. Does that count?)_

___Little notes about the story:  
- Imagine that the choir room is on the fifth floor of the afterlife high school's music building.  
- Brittany speaks entirely in song lyrics. Finding songs with specific words that more or less convey a particular message is **really** hard.  
- To **SamEvans17**: I actually did start out writing this as a humorous story, so I'm glad some of the deaths made you chuckle! Actually, my writing process has been a lot like the seasonal progression of Glee: it began intending to be a humorous comedy, but eventually started taking itself too seriously and now it's just a strange, dramatic dramedy of drama. Yeah._

* * *

Other than the blood crusted all over his body, Ryder's totally okay. Though the holes torn through his shirt and jacket leave no doubt that he must have been pretty dead up until very recently.

This is the third time he's surfaced from unconsciousness today. It's also the third time he's been reaching for wisps of memory that float just out of reach.

"See?" Kitty says monotonously as she hops onto the piano that he's been gracelessly sprawled upon, breaking him out of his thoughts. She hands him a warm, wet towel. "You won't stay dead."

Ryder glances in confusion about the choir room. For all intents and purposes, it looks like a music room; the back half of the room is comprised of three platforms of increasing height. Instead of individual chairs on each platform, there's just one huge couch with at least three students, all wearing the same black uniform. The front half of the music room is occupied by the piano at one end, a drum set, some guitars, and a pile of speakers in the other, and a wide, open space in between, where Sam is currently standing.

"Sorry 'bout that," apologizes Sam. "Man, I always forget to tell people about that squeaky step!"

Ryder inspects his hole-ridden khaki suit jacket yet again as he uses Kitty's towel to wipe the blood off his chest. No excuse of not finding a scar on his forehead this time; the evidence of this death is pretty real. "Holy shit," he breathes. "I really did die that time."

Kitty glares at him. "If you didn't believe me the first time, I'll be glad to show you again."

Some sort of psychic force propels Ryder's butt to fly off the piano and into the nearest vacant spot, which happens to be the couch on the middle platform. However, he doesn't exactly time his landing right, so he ends up sitting on somebody else.

"Whoa there," a guy says, bracing his hands against Ryder's back. Ryder immediately tenses, his defensive reflexes reacting to this new guy in the same way they had reacted to Sam, but Kitty's trigger-happy finger is still hovering next to her gun and he doesn't want a repeat that ends with another bullet through his head. Obviously feeling Ryder's tense muscles, the guy continues, "Don't take her personally; Kitty shoots all the men who piss her off."

Ryder glares at Kitty. Kitty just smiles back.

"Well, Ryder, you've obviously met our fearless leader, Kitty," Sam interjects. "And that's our intel guy, Artie, behind you."

"He looks smart," Kitty adds, "But don't be fooled by the glasses. He's actually a moron."

"Dominatrix," Artie coughs not-too-subtly.

Any comeback Kitty might have had is cut off when the only door in the room explodes off its hinges, sails right into Sam, and smashes him into the floor as a larger-than-life blonde makes her grand entrance. Everybody in the room gets a clear under-skirt view of her hot pink ruffle lace underwear before she lowers her high-kick leg and strikes a proud pose. "I am Unicorn," she huffs.

"It's our band," a dark-haired guy wearing a bowtie adds helpfully from the couch above, offering his hand. "If Brittany could have it her way, she'd do everything herself, but we only just convinced her that we're sort of psychic extensions of her body, so hey, I'm Man-Brittany Anderson, the drummer." As they shake hands, Man-Brittany leans in close and whispers, "Call me Blaine when Awesome-Brittany's not around."

"_Where them girls at, girls at?_" Brittany sings. Strangely, even standing in one spot, Brittany is still moving, flowing, shifting gracefully from one dance move to another as if she's in a dark nightclub and not a roomful of students in broad daylight.

"What she means," Blaine translates, "Is that Lady-Brittany and Meow-Brittany aren't here. They're roommates."

Sam groggily pushes the door off his body and points at Brittany. "So… yeah. Meet our guerilla band, _I Am Unicorn._ Over there, the ninja sulking in the corner is Tina."

The Asian girl slumps down even further so that just the gleam of her eyes is barely visible above the dark scarf covering her face, glaring stormily at the couch people.

"That's Jake over there," Sam points out, and a tall mulatto waves at Ryder, a gigantic battle axe slung over one shoulder and sub-machine gun strapped over the other.

"Then we've got Kitty's man slave, Brody," Sam continues. "It takes about half an hour for a normal body to eject a ninja star from the forehead, so you've got about two seconds before—"

Brody's massively muscled body lands with a thump on the threshold of the open doorway, just barely blocked by Brittany's wiry frame. "Hey you!" he roars. "Princess! Prepare to die!"

He takes a step forward, reaching a hand forward to push Brittany aside so he can enter the room. Before he can lay a hand on her, though, a massive stone block swings like a hammer from the ceiling and smashes him through a glass window to land on his head on the concrete five floors below.

Jake, Artie, and Blaine rush over the closest window to view the gory details. "Ooo, that's gotta hurt," grimaces Artie.

Blaine, on the other hand, looks fairly enthusiastic. "How long do you think that's going to take him to recover from that one?"

"Holy shit," Ryder freaks, pointing at the huge stone hammer now blocking the doorway out. "Holy _shit_! What was… what was that?"

"Anti-Reaper defenses," Sam explains, hopping onto the couch arm next to Ryder. "You know, the people in the Death Eater costumes with the scythes who come regularly to reap our souls and stuff. They try to kill us, we kill them first, etc etc."

A beat of silence.

"So… if the 'grim reaper' hasn't gotten around to harvesting our souls yet..." Ryder sarcastically reasons with their own insane logic, "Does this mean we're not dead?"

_BANG._

Ryder runs his hands through his hair, trying to cover up the burnt trench that Kitty's bullet had created as it skimmed the top of his head. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he backpedals.

"We're definitely dead," Kitty states flatly, her gun still smoking and _still_ aimed at his head. "And so are you."

She fires again.


	4. Ryder (4 of 4)

Ryder does not die.

Kitty's bullet flies true for a split second before Jake is there, swinging his bigass battle axe in its path. There's a tiny _CLINK_ as his axe blade hits her bullet. By the time the harmless projectile rolls to a stop on the ground, Jake's returned the halberd to its customary casual position over his shoulder.

"Cool it, Kitty," Jake says offhandedly, as if smacking bullets out of midair with a halberd is just another everyday occurrence and _holy-crap he-just-hit-a-bullet-after-she-shot-it-at-me._ "It's the kid's first day; cut him some slack."

Kitty reluctantly returns her firearm to its concealed sheath behind her back and folds her arms across her chest. "Happy?"

Jake nods and turns towards Ryder. "You okay there, man?"

"Death Eaters. Coming to reap our souls. Because we're not-dead." Saying the words out loud doesn't make them anymore believable, Ryder thinks.

Sam draws a finger across his throat. "Just like that. Though really, it could be anywhere on your body. Just as long as they slice your head or torso in half."

"We're not alive either," Kitty adds. Ryder gawks at the frying pan suddenly resting in her lap—where the hell did that come from? "Remember?"

Ryder's head is nodding frantically before he can even tell it to. "Yeah, I get that."

"But we don't planning on dying—again—any time soon," Sam crows. "And that's why we're different then everybody else here: we even have our own uniforms." Sam poses proudly, showing off the black suit jacket. "We're the _Not-Dead Battlefront_!"

It's as if Kitty has suddenly gained the power of teleportation just so she can zoom across the room and smash Sam's face in with her frying pan, amidst groans of "Seriously?" and "Laaame," and "No, we're too awesome for not-dead," and "Stupid, all of you are so stupid."

"Com'on, guys!" Sam whines, reforming his dented face. "Anybody have a better idea?"

"_Almost Dead Battlefront!"_

"_Turning In Our Graves Battlefront!"_

"_Unicorns United Battlefront!"_

"_Hell's Gate Battlefront!"_

"_Like Hell I'm Dead Battlefront!"_

"This is so stupid," Tina scoffs.

"Aw hell to da no," a new voice declares, drawing Ryder's attention back to the clamor of argument. Who Ryder assumes to be Lady-Brittany squeezes past Brittany and bustles into the center of the room. "We be the _Afterlife Battlefront_, y'all. Discussion ended, cuz we have more pressing matters: Meow-Brittany's sixth sense is acting up. She's been running around in front of the cafeteria all day."

"I see it, Adams," Tina calls from her dark corner of the room. She presses her back against the wall and, to Ryder's amazement, just seems to dissolve out of sight.

What.

How.

But—

"She does that all the time," Blaine murmurs into Ryder's ear. "Com'on, let's go."

"Go do what?" Ryder asks in bewilderment as the surrounding students ready their weapons. Sam pulls open a safe and starts throwing firearms out to his friends, who accept them without a word and dart out through the door and around the large stone hammer still hanging in the hallway outside. "Is somebody's sixth sense really that important?" he calls after Blaine.

The guy pauses for a second. "When it comes to Sugar," he says after ensuring Brittany isn't in the room, "Going crazy means we have trouble coming."

"Or that fish balls are being served for dinner," Sam adds helpfully. "Catch!"

By reflex, Ryder catches the tiny handgun thrown his way. It's just a lump of metal without biosensor synchronizers—nothing that tracks targets, nothing that senses surrounding lifeforms, not even anything that gives him feedback on his own heart rate or breathing patterns. It's just a lump of metal that makes him do everything by himself.

"I can't use this!" Ryder protests honestly, trying to pass the weapon back to the blonde. "Sam, I—"

Sam is suddenly there, his hands enclosing around Ryder's, folding Ryder's own fingers around the pistol. "Ryder, this is very real," Sam says seriously, his hands warm around Ryder's, staring deep into Ryder's eyes. "Those Reapers are coming to kill us, and if they succeed, we aren't coming back. We need you, Ryder. _I _need you_. _I need your strength, your stamina, your power, your muscles—"

"Uh, sorry man, but I, um, don't exactly swing that way."

The glimmering light behind Sam's heartfelt green eyes pops as he frantically backpedals a couple steps. "Ah, no! Nonono, hahaha, I totally didn't mean it like that!"

Both boys look awkwardly at the ceiling, the floor, the couch, anywhere but each other. The room is devoid of the noisy students and the awkwardness just hangs heavy in the air, slowly suffocating them—

"Yeah, sure. I'll join your Whatever Battlefront," Ryder blurts sheepishly, just to fill the awkward silence with _something_. "Not like I have anything else to do as a not-dead somebody."

"Great!" Sam cries. "Okay, let's go!" And with that, he's so frantic to escape the awkwardness that he settles for jumping straight through the nearest window.

There's got to be something wrong with psychics here, Ryder speculates, as Sam practically floats down five stories to land directly on top of Blaine. Blaine yells at him, but both pick themselves off the ground and brush dust off their shoulders before continuing to run past Brody's bloody form, which is slowly peeling itself off the concrete.

Ryder looks down at the weapon in his hands. Waking up in an unfamiliar world without a clue as to how he got there, dying twice and coming back to life twice, and… and flying. Somewhere in that mess of memories, there's flying. And pain.

Both in his body and in his heart.

Ryder shakes off the memories as he runs towards the stone hammer—and remembers the staircase with the squeaky stair and its spears. Five floors of anti-Reaper death traps… and nobody thought to stay behind and guide him down…

Ryder takes a glance at the window Sam had sailed through earlier and decides, sure, why the hell not.

YOLO has nothing on this.


	5. Sugar (1 of 2)

_Author's Note: This story is LONG from over! Every character has a set of chapters devoted solely to their point of view, so that's all that the "Part 1 of X" means. It can range from 2-5 chapters._

_Notes about the chapter:  
- thoughts coming from one's own head are **italicized bold**. Thoughts coming from somebody else's head are just plain italicized._

* * *

_**6 hours earlier…**_

Sugar stiffens as an involuntary shiver zaps its way through the entirety of her body. She freezes in the middle of the lunch line as a vicious battle ensues in the depths of her mind.

Fish balls! Just six feet away!

Sixth sense!

But… fish balls!

Sixth sensiresd blvwusilz bdzlz Mnwjais sudilhx!

It doesn't take long after that. Flinging her tray of french fries floating in miso soup into the nearest available face, Sugar leaps onto the nearest lunch table and bolts for the doorway, making sure to land in somebody's meal at every bounce.

And then she's sailing outside, right into the warm afternoon sunlight in front of the cafeteria.

Her sixth sense is going insane!

She faces around the perimeter of the cafeteria courtyard. It's cold outside for the mere mortals of this world, but not even the chill of weather can deter Sugar from a much-needed run.

Unless there's water involved. Yeck.

Six laps counterclockwise around the perimeter of the courtyard doesn't bring up anything, so Sugar turns in the other direction and makes six laps clockwise at double-time.

There!

She bounds over to a tree on the far side of the courtyard. No, it's not actually in the courtyard itself. It's more like a little stand of trees a couple meters outside of the courtyard. But this one tree out here—this one's important. Her sixth sense is tingling. This tree is important!

…It might have only been a couple seconds… or it might have been a whole hour… that Sugar stares intently up into the rustling leaves of that tree. It's like the answers of the universe are just bleeding out of its branches. She bathes in this glory for a couple seconds more (or an hour, whatever) before something else suddenly catches her attention. No, some_one_. She stares, evaluating and analyzing…

"Okay, this is getting creepy," the target whispers.

"Just ignore her. She's always this weird," a second voice replies. "Let's go."

The target begins to move, launching Sugar into action. She scampers her way up the tree trunk for a height advantage, then leaps outwards, her gorgeously-painted nails extended for maximum grabbage.

"Augh run she's coming—"

With beautiful success, she tackles the target to the ground and begins to scratch the hell out of his uniform. Yes! Yes! _Yes!_

…No?

No, this isn't what her sixth sense was reacting to at all. It's close, but it's not. Sugar daintily picks herself off of the twitching body and stalks away regally, as if she'd never made that mistake in the first place. And after a half-second, she fully believes herself. She wasn't acting rashly; the guy just ticked her off! With his imperfect… imperfectness. Nobody with that much lame-itude should be allowed to walk around as proudly as he was.

Him!

She doesn't know what she's looking for, but she's definitely found him this time! She doesn't waste a moment before she's pouncing onto his body—

"Waugh!"

—and successfully brings him to the ground. But behold, the scent wafting up into her nostrils is a familiar one. Ridiculously seductive. It isn't long before she's reduced to nothing but a quivering pile of purrs.

"Sugar? Dammit, Sugar, you know I'm allergic—hachoo!"

She bats at his blonde mop of hair. Oo! An identifying clue! Hair. She's looking for hair. A guy with hair.

"Just… Sugar, can you please get off me?"

Slowly, she stretches the entire length of her body along his prone form while letting out a satisfyingly low growl. She even lands perfectly on all fours when the boy freaks and leaps to his feet, hurling her at least ten feet into the air.

"Don't…" he points a shaky, accusing finger at her. "Don't do that again."

_**The cafeteria.**_

He freezes as the telepathic thought pushes its way into his mind. Oh yeah, she forgot she could do that. Whoops. Oh well, while she's in here, she might as well actually figure out who's she's talking to.

The connection works both ways, and she hears what Sam's going to say before the words even leave his mouth. _What about the cafeteria?_

_**Fish balls!**_ she screeches telepathically. The thought brings her such delight that she collapses to the ground and _wiggles_ around in joy.

_Sugar… you're really weird._ He turns and begins to walk away, forcing Sugar to use desperate measures.

By tackling him to the ground again. This time, she makes sure she's sitting on his stomach.

_**The cafeteria!**_ she insists.

Sam gasps for air. _You are __the__ heaviest animal I have ever—_

She holds sharpened fingernails above his throat. _**What were you saying?**_

Sam just bats her hands away and tries to move. She shifts her weight to pin him in place. _Sugar, I really need to get—_

_**This is more important. There's somebody waiting for you in the cafeteria.**_

_What?_

Sugar casually licks the back of her hand, then uses that wet surface to smooth over the stray hairs sticking up behind her ears. _**I have a feeling that he might appreciate you more than he would me.**_

Her urgent message now conveyed, she leaps off his body and ignores the tittering giggles of witnessing classmates. Sam, on the other hand, blushes a furious red. _What's that supposed to mean? _he snarls, thoroughly embarrassed.

Sugar just winks at him.


	6. Sugar (2 of 2)

_Author's Note:  
- Unique speaks in the third person.  
- And Sugar... well, you tell me ;)  
- Kitty's POV and fight scenes up next! _

* * *

Two minutes later finds Sugar sprawled across the lawn, basking the sunshine.

Or it might have been two hours. Whatever. Who cares.

Her ears pick it up before her mind does. It's like they're little satellite extensions of her sixth sense, heh. Her head swivels towards the cafeteria again.

Huh. That's weird. She thought she'd fulfilled her goal when she'd directed Sam towards that guy in the cafeteria. Unfortunately, her sixth sense doesn't seem to have a sense of time (much like herself), so she has no idea whether or not that new guy's actually appeared yet. Maybe that's why her sixth sense is still tingling.

But no… it's not quite that.

Sugar leaps to her feet and makes her way back to the cafeteria courtyard. The closer she gets, the more her body tingles. It's like there are fleas itching their way up and down her skin and it's starting to drive her crazy.

Something big is going to happen. Something _huge_.

And it might be related to that new guy.

There!

She stares at what seems to be an empty spot of air. For seconds, minutes, maybe even an hour—she just crouches in the middle of the courtyard, watching and waiting. Sixteen different colors shift through her vision, alternating out in quarter-second intervals to give her multiple perspectives in the same area. Then she sees it: a flicker in air.

The pins-and-needles sensation crawls up her arms. She stiffens. That's it. That's what's so important. It's not that guy—it's this.

Her head moves before she knows it, catching another flicker in the air. Another one! That's two of them important things. Super important!

But even more important is the fact that her body is reacting before her mind. Augh! This human mind is so slow!

And then there's another flicker, and those three flickers become the most important thing on Sugar's mind. Three flickers in a perfect triangle. That can't be coincidence. Co-inka-dink. That's planned.

Three flickers in the fabric of the universe. She has to warn the _Unicorns United Battlefront_.

But on her way over to the music room, that Super Important Tree grabs her attention yet again. And she can't help it, because it literally feels like _something_ is calling her over to it. Maybe it's that bird nest at the very top. Seconds later, she's clinging to a needle-thin branch at the very top of the tree, unable to let go and unable to get down, mewing for her life.

Him! That's him! Walking with Sam over to the music room! Even in the midst of her panic, clinging to a tree branch like her life depends on it, Sugar's sixth sense also goes wild at the sight of the brown-haired boy. She starts screaming as loud as she can, just trying to attract his attention… there!

_**Get me out of this tree, please!**_

His eyes are drawn straight to her. Yes!

And then Sam dances behind the new boy and hurriedly propels him into a building. No!

Sugar's Hit List #1: Sam Evans.

As soon as she gets out of the tree.

She's not sure how much longer she's left up in these terrifying heights. They can't leave her like this! She's their most important member! She does intel (well, all the stuff that Artie doesn't do), plus she's like the most important part of _I Am Unicorn_ (Brittany can't sing and be the lead guitar at the same time, so Sugar's the one who stepped up and sacrificed her voice for those mad riffs!) Most importantly, she has her crazy sixth sense! You know, the one that just makes her super crazy and highly irritable. The one that's more often a false alarm about fish balls or how the school pond's been recently restocked with more koi fish. The one that the _Not-Dead-Unicorns Battlefront_ responds to on a regular basis without fail, even if it is just to find her drowning in the koi pond, because they _know_ that her sixth sense always picks up on the Big Important Events.

And the newest Big Important Event is the arrival of this new guy into this afterlife world, quickly followed by three Soul Reapers trying to break their way into their universe.

Ding-ding-ding! Her logical mind suddenly starts drawing connections between seemingly unrelated events, weaving together a massive bigger picture on what _really_ is going on, and why this new guy is suddenly the Biggest Most Important Thing To Ever Fall Into Their World And Why—

The wind stirs through the tree branches, almost shaking Sugar from her secure hold. She yelps and clings tighter, mind refocused onto holding on and not falling. Dammit, the _Not-Dead-Unicorns Battlefront _can't just abandon her to this horrible fate, dying alone up here (except, well, she can't actually die…)

"Sugar?"

Sugar hesitantly opens one eye and glances down at the ground—nonono that makes her sick. She scrunches her eyes shut again, but not before catching a glimpse of her hero.

Unique!

"Com'on, baby girl," Unique calls. "You've never had trouble jumping out of the music room before."

_**Sixth sense triangle flickers in the fabric of the universe danger important cafeteria courtyard tell the others please get me out of this tree!**_

Unique jerks back, startled at the sudden stream of consciousness that pours telepathically straight from Sugar's mind into hers. "Hold on," Unique yells. "Unique will get the others!"

_**Don't leave meeeee!**_

But Unique's already gone.

And when the ultimate showdown starts minutes later in a flurry of shiny metal and gunshots, everybody forgets about the most important person, still stuck in the tree, mewing pathetically.

Everybody except the new boy.


	7. Kitty (1 of 4)

Kitty reaches the cafeteria first—right after Tina, that is. It'd taken a while for her to catch on to her friend's shenanigans, but she mostly goes with her gut reaction when it comes to shifting shadows. She reads the environment right this time; Tina pops out from behind some trees, her super-long scarf fluttering to a rest behind her.

"Kitty," Tina greets tersely, then points at towards the cafeteria. "Reality distortions."

Kitty's already seen them. If the cafeteria courtyard had been painted onto a canvas, and then somebody had gone to the other side and tried to poke a hole through the canvas… then that's pretty much what this situation looks like. As if somebody's trying to tear their way through the fabric of the universe to land in their world.

"Ready for this, girl?" Kitty says as she pulls her two Beretta pistols out of their concealed holsters on her back, underneath her black sweater vest.

Tina only nods in affirmation as Brittany pulls up next to them. Even standing in one spot, Brittany is constantly flowing from one position to another, spinning and twirling one moment, then suddenly diving into a random martial arts move like a leg sweep that knocks Kitty onto her butt, or a backflip for no reason other than the fact that she can pull it off in her sleep.

"Dammit, Brittany," swears Kitty as she jumps back to her feet.

"_When you're lying in your sleep, when you're lying in your bed/ And you wake from your dreams to go dancing with the dead_," Brittany comments offhandedly.

The fabric of the universe bulges, a large distortion that seems to send ripples through the cafeteria. Kitty briefly wonders what the interior of the cafeteria feels like. All the non-playable characters inside probably don't feel a thing; they're just background noise in the fabric of this strange high school afterlife.

And then it's over so fast that Kitty doesn't have a chance to see what a tear in the universe looks like, or what's on the other side. One moment, the cafeteria just looks like it's been all twisted up into knots; the next moment, the cafeteria is right back to normal, except there's spontaneously a small figure in a black hooded coat standing right in front of them, one hand on a sheathed sword.

"Hi," Brittany waves shyly.

Hesitantly, the Reaper waves back.

"Die," snarls Kitty, firing point blank.

The Reaper is moving before Kitty has depressed the trigger fully. His path is cut off by an equally fast Tina, her torso twisting in mid-flight to throw out a fan of tiny needles; the Reaper knocks her tiny metal slivers out of the air with a swing of his sword, still within the sheath.

Why doesn't he pull it out of the sheath? Is he _playing_ with them?

Tina's needles may have just as well served as a distraction for Brittany to come up behind with a roundhouse kick. It connects, but the Reaper lessens the blow by tossing himself into an aerial cartwheel, partially propelled by the kick to his shoulder. This move clears him of Brittany, allowing Kitty to start shooting all over again.

Kill the Reaper. That's all she has to do. That black-hooded bastard doesn't actually belong in this universe, so the moment he unravels, the fabric of the universe shoves him out. Unfortunately, the universe shoving Reapers out means that they don't actually die, and eventually, they come back. But it's the only solution they have for now, and besides, Reapers take much longer to heal than they of the afterlife universe do.

Ha, even Brody's never managed to stay dead for longer than an hour, and see just how _many _times he's not-died a horrible death.

The Reaper has already slid into attack position, but Brittany's already within his personal space, lashing out with a quick snap-kick followed by a punch. He dodges, the rippling black coat concealing his form and making it hard for Brittany to land a blow. Still, she keeps lashing out, constantly flowing from one attack to the next, forcing the Reaper back towards Kitty.

There's a _click, _followed quickly by a flash of light as the Reaper quick-draws out his weapon. Kitty doesn't even get a chance to see the blade, but she does see Tina flying backwards, blood gushing from a nick in her gut. Kitty quickly moves to cover her as Tina drops the ninjato that she blocked with and tears off a section of her scarf to bind the cut.

The Reaper's sword has gone back in his sheath, who is now using it as a blunt weapon to combat Brittany's physical strikes. It riles Kitty's nerves—he _is_ playing with them! He isn't taking them seriously, using a weapon that can't do much more than break bones.

"Surprise attack!" Sam yells, coming up from behind. The Reaper doesn't even look backwards; he simply slips the sheath off the sword and swings it behind his back, thumping Sam soundly in the head.

"It's not a surprise attack if you publicly announce it," Kitty chastises as Blaine rushes in from the side, using a tri-bladed sai to lock the club-like sheath in place.

"It gave Blaine a chance, didn't it?" Sam whines, rubbing the three-inch tall bump on his forehead.

Blaine twists his sai blade, using the prong-like side guards to try to snap the Reaper's club out of his grasp. The opponent's grip is firm, however, and when Brittany takes a step back, the sword comes in so fast that Blaine barely has time to block the whizzing katana with his second sai. It's a half-second stalemate that the Reaper quickly ends by headbutting Blaine, forcing him back a step and breaking the hold. The Reaper finishes with a flying butterfly kick that sends Blaine flying into Sam.

The move leaves the Reaper open. _That's_ a chance.

_CLANG_.

The Reaper stumbles back from Kitty's cast-iron frying pan, right into Brittany's hook kick. Brittany's blow in the back pushes him forward towards Jake's axe, and only by swiveling his body does the Reaper avoid little more than a slash across his torso with the axe blade. Somehow, though, he manages to twist his body around the halberd's handle and backward-somersaults his way up to Jake's chest, using that as a push-off platform to launch himself high into the air.

"Throw me," Brittany yells, jumping onto the blade of Jake's axe. The guy's still slightly off balance from being used as a springboard, but he anchors his feet long enough to catapult Brittany slightly above the Reaper. The blonde turns her momentum into a somersault and brings her heel down _hard_ in spinning frontflip kick.

The Reaper smashes into the ground so hard that he _bounces_, sword and sheath flying away from him. "Finish him off!" Kitty yells as they sprint towards the prone figure. Tina gets a shot first with a flying kunai that hurtles straight for the Reaper's chest—

A flash of light momentarily blinds Kitty as the Reaper's sword unexpectedly melts into the form of a curly-haired figure. The sword-turned-person streaks towards the prone body on the ground, snatching up the airborne sheath on his way. He lands in a poof of dust in front of the Reaper and brings the sheath up just in time to knock Tina's knife out of the air.

Just to their luck, the universe contorts again. Twice.

Tina's spinning knife falls into one and seems to bounce around excitedly for a moment before flying out, perfectly straight, right towards Jake. Fortunately, the guy has plenty of experience knocking Kitty's bullets out of the air, and it's no problem for him to bring his axe in to block.

Brittany hits the second twisted reality knot and bounces off what seems to her to be empty air. The disturbance catches onto her leg and twists it upwards in an impossible angle; a second too late, Brittany's screaming as her irregular pattern is warped along with the rest of the universe.

Yet another way that one of them can die, Kitty realizes, but she's too far away to help. She can still damn try, though, and as she sprints towards the other blonde, she watches in horrified amazement as Brittany's leg splinters and her arm is pulled into the twisting mess of another Reaper trying to push his way into their afterlife.

It's too late; Brittany's going to die.


	8. Kitty (2 of 4)

Almost half of Brittany's body is in the process of being torn apart by the reality distortion when Sam's body barrels into hers. For just a second, his entire body contorts as well, but then his momentum takes the two of them out of harm's way and they collapse into an untouched section of their afterlife world, still alive and breathing, but unable to move.

"Where the hell is Brody when you need him?" Kitty shouts at anybody who will listen.

Tina's voice seems to drift along with the winds. "Still peeling himself off the pavement."

"What about that new guy?"

"He's hiding up a tree."

Kitty grimaces as one of the reality distortions blinks, depositing another Reaper—this one a little taller, though the black cloak conceals his form. Over one shoulder is slung a huge scythe, gleaming red and black in the light.

"Took you long enough, Satan," gripes the curly-haired boy standing in front of the first Reaper, sheath still in hand.

Kitty notes the long, silky brown hair spilling out of first Reaper's hood as _she_ props herself up with her elbows. The female Reaper immediately holds a hand out towards the guy and commands, "Knock it off, St. James."

St. James only has time to exclaim, "It was four Souls against us, Rachel—" before he's engulfed in a flash of white light. Within seconds, Rachel holds just a sword and a sheath, and neither weapon seem like it's going to transform into a sentient person.

"That's three of you," growls the second Reaper (Satan, really?), swinging the gigantic scythe into an attack position.

"Keep your mind on the job," the first Reaper barks, casting her brunette hair and sharp brown eyes into darkness as she pops her hood back up and readies her sword and club-like sheath.

Kitty can hear the smile in Satan's words. "Right. It's time for you guys to move on."

A blur of movement. Kitty's gut instincts kick in, propelling her into a vertical jump. Not fast enough though; her shins hit scythe's handle and slide towards the blade. At the last moment, Kitty takes the momentum from the blow to her legs and turns it into roll that brings her legs safely out of the path of the scythe, though it leaves her disoriented as she tumbles through air. Still, she brings out both pistols and fires sideways, using the recoil to at least push her away from the dark, cloaked form to her right.

Muscled arms wrap around her as a stocky body scoops her up and brings her out of harm's way. She knows instantly that it's Brody—only an idiot like him would deliberately put himself in line of fire for her.

Well, not even necessarily her. Brody tends to charge head-on into every battle, which is probably why he holds the record of not-dying the most.

He has yet to die for real though.

"Idiot," she huffs as Brody skids along the concrete. She rolls out of his grasp and lands flat on her feet. "Don't stick out your neck for me."

"Got it, Boss," Brody winks before charging straight towards the first Reaper, Rachel, whose attention is currently occupied by the whirling tornado of blades and daggers that is Tina. Brody dives right into the thick of this by pulling a katana out of a large quiver on his back and throwing it like a spear, right at the Reaper. The projectile is so fast that the Reaper barely has time to dodge, distracting her long enough for Tina to gain the upper hand. Brody continues using his swords as projectiles, keeping the Reaper on her toes while Tina chips away at her defense with lightning-fast close-range attacks; Kitty covers Tina with her two pistols.

Meanwhile, Brody isn't just tossing katanas at random. While Tina cages the Reaper within a small area, Brody slowly forms a circle of ten swords, ten feet in radius, around the Reaper. Some of the swords are pulled directly out of his quiver and stuck in the ground; others were previously thrown as spears and lie in a strategic position. As soon as he's done arranging, he yells, "Ready!"

"Ready!" Kitty shouts back, pulling her sights off the Reaper. Tina tosses a smoke bomb onto the ground and vanishes into the darkness.

With the Reaper now in the center of Brody's circle of blades, Brody launches his attack into motion by grabbing one sword and driving it straight towards the Reaper. She blocks it easily with her club, sending the blade down into the ground next to her foot. Brody doesn't care, though; he runs straight across the circle to another katana and has it pointed at the Reaper's wide open back. This time, she's a bit slower in deflecting the back-attack, but Brody already has the third sword and he's only getting faster. The fourth sword slashes the knee; the fifth blade is buried in the ground between her legs. The sixth katana comes straight for her neck, which she could have dodged had not the previous four swords buried in the ground around her feet tripped her up.

The seventh sword goes straight through her back and out her front. Brody is a blur of movement for the last three remaining katanas in his attack circle, placing them effectively in key vulnerable spots in her torso before the universe pulses. Just like that, the enemy Reaper disappears and ten clean katanas crash to the ground.

The third reality distortion wiggles slightly before sinking out of sight, returning the world to its normal three-dimensional setting. It's almost as if their reality has realized that there are two foreign presences that don't belong, and it works with them to toss them out.

"Two princesses down!" crows Brody. "Just one princ—"

Satan materializes right next to him then, almost catching him in the curve of the scythe. Against all odds, though, a bubble in the fabric of reality shoves the Reaper slightly off balance, allowing Brody to roll to safety.

"Bullet hell!" Blaine screams, hefting an assault rifle into his arms and letting loose. A steady stream of gunshots reverberates around the cafeteria common area as Jake opens fire with his sub-machine gun. The rest of the team quickly catches on, inundating the Reaper in a flood of metal pellets that should be impossible to avoid.

A blast of wind explodes outwards as a bright blue bubble expands around the Reaper. Every single bit of metal seems to freeze in place right before it hits the bubble, hovering in place, humming with conserved kinetic energy—

A powerful telepathic shout blasts its way through Kitty's mind, and probably into the mind of every _Not Yet Dead Battlefront _member in the area: _**Take cover!**_

Seconds before every single of their bullets rocket straight back at them.

Years of cheerleading practice from a past life kick in, and probably a lot of adrenaline too (and when has the physics of this world ever made sense), because Kitty's not sure how she manages to vertically jump at least four feet, then bounce off the brick wall of the cafeteria to add another foot of height. The jump takes her just out of reach of the hail of bullets while also giving her the perfect view of all her friends getting mowed down by their own fire.

The second she lands, she's up and running. That weird bubble shield probably took a lot of energy, and it's all she can do but hope he has a refractory period.

Once again, Tina gets to the Reaper first. This time, though, it's almost as if the Reaper's expecting her, whirling around and knocking Tina's shadowy form out of midair with the dull edge of his scythe. Tina hits the ground in a roll before using a handspring to land on her feet. Light reflects off a kunai as she first uses it to deflect a bullet, then tosses it at her attacker. The knife manages to slice through black cloth, but the coat ripples and flows over the Reaper's form, hiding any possible wound.

Jake's there suddenly, trying a back attack, but the Reaper's scythe sweeps right up and locks the halberd in mid-swing. For just a second, Jake tries to yank the scythe out of its user's hands—on his second tug, though, the Reaper uses Jake's tension between the halberd and scythe to launch himself into a flying kick. Unexpectedly small feet plant themselves in Jake's chest and shove him to the ground. The halberd is knocked from Jake's hands, releasing the tension; with one swift movement, the Reaper pulls up to free his scythe, swings the weapon around his body, and brings it straight back down onto Jake's torso.

The universe seems to bend just slightly, guiding Kitty's desperately-tossed flying frying pan right into the blade of the scythe and knocking it off target. The wicked blade sinks at least six inches into the concrete, just centimeters away from Jake's head as the guy barely rolls out of the way; the Reaper only has seconds to react before Tina's form appears out of nowhere, legs pistoning right into their opponent's side to send him flying…

Only the Reaper somehow maintains a grip on the handle of his scythe, and the force that should have sent Satan flying is suddenly converted into circular velocity around the scythe's pole. Tina only has time to turn slightly and cross her arms protectively over her torso before the Reaper slams into her, sending her flying into a tree trunk. She's still gasping for breath at the tree's base, crouching on unsteady limbs, when Satan yanks his scythe out of the ground and swings.

Tina cries out as the blade cuts into her torso and begins to make its way through.

Before the scythe can finish slicing her in half, though, Ryder jumps out of the tree and shoots Satan between the eyes.

The power of the shot forces the hood back and off the Reaper's head, allowing waves of raven hair to spill out. A pretty, dark-skinned face; dark eyes, almost black, framed by long lashes; a flashing white smile as she leers at them all.

Then Satan and her death scythe pop out of existence.

Ryder lands on the patch of recently vacated grass shortly thereafter.

Quickly followed by all 100 pounds of Sugar Motta—a completely human figure, save for the cat ears poking out of her brunette hair and the tail peeking from underneath her short skirt—who lands on top of him, mewling pitifully.


	9. Kitty (3 of 4)

*_NPC stands for "non-playable character."_

* * *

If Brody can recover within an hour after splattering his brains across the pavement by falling five stories and landing on his head, cleaner methods of death, like bullet wounds, should take even less time. Thus most of the members of the _Not Yet Dead Battlefront_ are up and running again within fifteen minutes; Brody's especially fast at ejecting bullets and is good to go in ten, probably because Kitty's the one who's been putting them in more frequently. Meanwhile, Sam and Brittany are up and running a couple minutes after Satan and her death scythe disappear, apparently fine after the entirety of the reality distortions are gone.

Tina, on the other hand, is still significantly incapacitated. Injuries made with Reaper weapons—the ones that can somehow transform into humans—seem to take much longer to heal. Like, instead of the usual within-the-hour, more like within-the-next 24-hours. That's why they still need the school hospital.

Kitty is floored by what she sees there.

"Sam," she threatens, bringing out the frying pan.

"I'm carrying an injured person!" Sam objects, his arms still looped under Tina's. "You can smash my skull in after I put her on the bed."

Tina groans. "This is so stupid. I can walk myself."

"Shhh, you're injured. And delusional."

Kitty resists smacking Sam across the head as she surveys the trashed room. "There isn't an intact bed in here! There isn't an intact _anything!_"

Sam jerks his head towards a supply closet. "There's a spare bed in there, remember? By the way: not my fault."

Over in the corner, Brody sighs. "Hey Boss, look: I did it, okay? But that new princess, he challenged your authority, so I had to—"

_Clang_.

Brody nurses the rapidly purpling bruise on his shoulder. "I did it for your honor, Boss," he maintains proudly.

Kitty doesn't try to hide her exasperation. "Screw your planet's honor system, Brody. You're not in the 2500s anymore."

Meanwhile, Artie's pulled out the last remaining functional hospital bed, complete with a vital signs monitor. Sam and Blaine lift Tina onto the bed.

"Hey man!" Sam yelps as Blaine lifts Tina's legs a little higher to get them over the bed's rails. "No upskirt peeking, you perv."

Blaine blushes furiously, but doesn't say anything. Even more strangely, Kitty notes, the lightest pink flush is creeping its way up Tina's neck.

Kitty takes this as her cue to say Tina's usual comment for her. "That's stupid, Sam. You can shut up now."

Sam carefully lays Tina's torso onto the bed and goes through the motions of snugly tucking her into a warm blanket. Oblivious as usual, Sam punches Blaine teasingly on the shoulder while declaring, "I can personally testify to witnessing this particular man sneaking into the girls' dormitories to have little midnight—"

Yes, Tina is definitely blushing now. The girl's never embarrassed of anything. This calls for drastic action.

_CLANG._

Sam sails backwards three feet before landing on his butt. "Chats!" he blurts, sticking one finger up his nose to staunch the bleeding. "Midnight talks! Harmless chit-chat!" He grumbles incomprehensibly as he jumps to his feet. "Dude," he points at Blaine. "I better not catch you sneaking back in here as soon as we're all gone."

Blaine speeds forward and literally hurls Sam out the nearest window.

"Waaaugh…!"

"Uh, see you later, Tina," Blaine mutters before diving out the window himself.

There's silence for a brief moment before Brody quietly takes his leave. Kitty just stands at Tina's bedside

As if reading her thoughts, Tina's head swivels towards Kitty. Even tucked into a warm medical facility bed, she's still wearing her scarf. "Stop worrying foolishly. Of course I am okay."

"I wasn't," Kitty replies right away, even though it's not entirely true. "Just giving you the battle report. Everybody else is okay too. Brody received the most bullets, standing at a current total of seven, and you just saw how okay he was. As you already know, a clean cut all the way through is required to reap a soul. You may not have seen, but Ryder was the one who shot Satan dead before you…" She gestures vaguely at Tina's torso.

"He was close," Tina nods.

Kitty clears her throat. "She."

"Huh?"

"Satan. Satan's a she."

Tina contemplates this for a moment. "Hm. That makes sense."

* * *

She finds Ryder on the rooftop at sunset. His arms are folded and resting on the railing as he stares into the orange sky, and he doesn't notice her approach. And what a first day he must have had in this weird afterlife world. It totally makes sense that the guy would seek refuge up here on the school rooftop and lose himself in thought.

Kitty still remembers her first day here. It'd been pretty uneventful; she'd just dropped into the school cafeteria directly after what she knew had been her death. Nobody around her really saw her confusion as weird, and when she tried to garner information from them, she got mostly noncommittal answers that didn't tell her anything.

She'd wandered over to the gym and barely started a workout before this messed-up half-human monster appeared out of nowhere and went on a rampage through the weight room, slicing NPCs* in half and gulping down their glowing blue souls, until a figure in a black coat had also spontaneously dropped out of nowhere and sliced the monster in half with what had looked like a humming circular blade straight out of a Tron movie shot from a launcher strapped to his arm.

And in the panic of running around and screaming for her life, she'd found Sam, who also had no idea what the hell was going on or where they were and how they got here.

They starting meeting together on a regular basis, though the only reason why she could even stand to be in his presence was because he seemed to be the only other person around who thought that something was funky about this place. Still, the NPCs reacted quite realistically, spreading rumors that they were going out—up until Tina had suddenly tumbled out of the sky.

Then Kitty accidentally saved a jerkwad from getting his soul harvested by another human-monster-hybrid, only the muscled asshole turned out to be a real guy, and suddenly she had a man slave she really, really didn't want because he represented everything she was terrified of.

It's been quite a while since her first day. Sam's still the co-leader of the _Not Yet Dead Battlefront _(Sam insists that they use _Battlefront_ and some punny or lame form of _Dead_). She's still got her ninjatastic best friend who's totally content with silent company rather than idle chatter. And, of course, she still has the man slave who insists on defending her honor at all costs, even if she kills him at least once a day.

Anyways, because it's Ryder's first day—and what a fantastic first day it's been, with almost everybody not-dying—Kitty doesn't shoot right past his ear to get his attention.

She smack him in the ass with her frying pan, though. He should be keeping his guard up at all times anyways.

"Ow—fuck!"

"Suck it up," Kitty drawls unsympathetically. "You're going to have to raise your pain threshold a ton more if you're going to survive in this world." She turns her back to the railing and leans against it, facing him slightly. "In fact, as the newbie, we'll probably use you as the dummy during staged fights. If you saw us at all while you were hiding in your tree, we do great as a team for a reason."

The new guy hobbles around in a circle, one hand pitifully holding his hurt butt cheek. Damn, he _is_ a softie. Nothing that a couple more whacks won't fix though. "Was that really necessary?"

Kitty continues without missing a beat, ignoring his question. "Sam's an okay guy, but I'm pretty sure nobody's thought to even ask about those burning questions sizzling in your mind."

Ryder glances at her hesitantly. "What?"

Kitty folds her arms across her chest. Her handguns in the holsters strapped into her back dig into her skin, but she's so used to the pressure that it's easy enough to ignore. "Ask away," she says offhandedly. "You have questions, I might have answers. I also have guns, but they're strapped to my back." She holds up her empty hands for him to see. "So I won't shoot you, even if you ask a really stupid question."

Ryder barely quashes the fear in his eyes. Kitty savors it.

"So…" he trails off into silence. "We're… not-dead."

"Everybody on the battlefield is up and running, aren't they?" She motions down to the courtyard below, where Blaine's dueling with Jake. "Don't tell me you didn't see anything while you were hiding in your tree."

"I wasn't hiding," Ryder snaps.

"Right."

"That cat-girl." Ryder pushes himself off the railing and turns to face her, arms folding defensively across his chest. "I felt her psychic touch earlier when I first got here. She knew I would be at the cafeteria. And then, during the battle, she kept begging for somebody to rescue her."

Kitty gives him a frank stare. "We had much more important things to deal with."

Ryder glances off to the side. "I didn't recognize it at first. It's been a while since I've had to deal with clientele from the Medusa Cascade; it wasn't until I was physically close to her that she suddenly opened up and got intimate, and then I…" He suddenly presses his lips together tightly and turns away. "I'm sorry, I've said too much."

Kitty continues looking straight at what she can catch of his face. "Let me tell you a secret about this afterlife. We're all here for the same reason: we had pretty shitty past lives. What you've gone through, somebody here has more or less experienced to a certain extent, okay?" Her tone becomes a little hard and bitter at the end, she notes, but she doesn't bother fixing it.

"Really?" Ryder laughs humorlessly. "What's your story, then?"

"I'm not going to pressure you to share yours," Kitty says pointedly. "Me, though, I don't care. The last thing I ever did in my past life was shoot the bastard who raped me."


	10. Kitty (4 of 4)

Ryder reacts a lot more violently to her "secret" than she did to his. "You what?"

"Nobody cares what you've done in your past life," sighs Kitty, rolling her eyes. "This is our life now, and we're living it the best we can." Her fingers curl around the railing behind her. "Sometimes I think it's _because_ our lives sucked so bad that we're here in the first place."

Ryder doesn't say anything for a long moment. Kitty's just about to let the quiet, dying sun warm her face when Ryder starts barfing up words so fast that Kitty can hardly understand him.

"Whoa. Whoa there, mister," she yells. "Slow down."

Ryder takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes. Exhales… inhales. Turns to face Kitty again, his face solemn. "I've killed people." He looks down at his handgun. "I was a… a bodyguard, you could say. And in the world that I worked, killing the assassins first was something I had to do every other week. But… that's not why I'm here, I guess. That's not how I died."

Kitty gets that this guy's about to dump a shit-ton of emotional baggage on top of her. She's tempted to brush him off—if he wants hugs and kisses, she's not the girl to talk to. She's the one who pulls frying pans out of the same magic hammerspace that Tina procures her everlasting ninja stars from. Really, she'd rather give him the bird than comforting words.

But at the same time, Kitty knows that a listening ear is comforting enough.

And this guy's had a really rough first day.

So she doesn't say anything. He takes this as his cue to continue.

* * *

_My girlfriend, Marley—she came down sick one day. Nobody knew what was wrong with her or how she caught it. She just collapsed one afternoon and didn't wake up for months. A coma, you know. And I was there with her every morning as soon as… after work, just waiting._

_When she finally woke up, she didn't remember anybody. She'd forgotten everybody… except me._

_Except she thought I was her older brother._

_It hurt a lot at first—she'd get fidgety when I tried to kiss her, stuff like that… but I think it was just a month before I finally came around to loving her, not as a girlfriend, but as a sister. I just… I just loved her that much, you know? It's… yeah, it's confusing._

_She didn't remember anything though. Not the colors of fall—and she was so excited the first time she saw snow, and those winter lights hanging on the trees at night…_

_I bought her a magazine every day. Fashion, food, house, technology, Christmas. She saw the mall and she really wanted to go. She wanted to be free of the hospital box—the only place she could actually remember. So I planned to ask her doctors; see if she could get a vacation or something, right? Just let her out of the hospital for one day, even if she couldn't walk, and I could just put her in a wheelchair and push her through the snow—hell, I could even carry her, she was so fragile and light and beautiful…_

_The doctors said no, of course. She was terminally ill; they were just waiting for her to die. Her parents disagreed too. They wanted her to die slowly, cooped up in that tiny hospital box. And I…_

_I had to take her out at least once. Marley had to see the world lit up at night for once in her life._

_So I broke into the hospital after visiting hours. Nobody was around; it was Christmas' Eve and most everybody was at home. My entire extended family was at home too, everybody except me, because I was carrying Marley on my back. _

_I literally had a thousand bucks in my pocket. We were going to sit underneath the huge Christmas tree and make a wish on the Christmas star, and then we were going to go out and eat something… Christmas food, whatever. It was downtown; somebody was bound to still be open. And then we'd go shopping and I would buy anything and everything she wanted._

_I would do anything for Marley._

_It wasn't until we got to the Christmas tree that I realized that she was crying. Warm tears dripping down the back of my neck. Mumbling something. I couldn't hear._

_By the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone. The crime that finally did me in was the involuntary manslaughter of my girlfriend. I still don't know what Marley's last words were, but I do know that I was the one who killed her._

* * *

Oops, I accidentally killed my girlfriend.

Oops, I accidentally raped my little sister's best friend.

It's all the same.

Kitty's body is shaking. Her arms are folded so tightly across her chest that she's shaking. Her handguns press tightly into her back and, for a split second, she has the urge to pull one out and put it to Ryder's forehead and blast out his brains, commit that last act of victory that she hadn't been able to do in a past life.

No, she's changed. Not all hot guys with muscles are like this. She's been here with Sam and Brody and Jake for so long and, for the most part, they're _really_ nice guys and she can just _tolerate _them.

But past trauma is still trauma.

* * *

_He smiled, though it never reached his eyes. Her young self observed that at least; but she failed to see what the dark, stormy look in his eyes really meant. It was her undoing._

_She thought he was opening up to her. She thought he was confiding in her, telling her his hurt and grief and sorrow about his most recent breakup, and she just wanted to heal him. _

_She started the kiss. It never ended._

"_I can't believe you'd say that. You told me last night that you had a crush on him!"_

"_I'm sorry, Mrs. Clarington. My daughter has never lied to me before."_

"_Ohmigod, here she comes."_

"_Seriously, just look at her. Gro-o-oss." _

"_She probably wanted it."_

"_Kitty Wilde's just a jealous wannabe bitch."_

"_No way in hell would __**I**__ fuck her ugly face." _

_The look of absolute fear in his eyes when, one year of terror and self-loathing later, she shot him once, twice, three times. When she walked up to his twitching, blubbering body and shoved the barrel of her father's pistol right between his eyes and… and then she couldn't do it. Her wobbly resolve collapsed and she was a monster and she ran in panic—only there were suddenly policemen all around her, and no longer thinking properly, she shot at them too. They tazed her. She pulled out the electrifying wires and tried to run for it. They tazed her again. She fell to the ground, no longer in control of her body, and the men were on top of her, holding her down, holding her still, keeping her in place and no please it hurts oh my god __**let me go—**_

* * *

"Kitty," Ryder calls, startling her out of her memories. "I…"

Kitty just walks towards the doorway leading back down to the music room. "Your past life is already past," she whispers. "This is our life now, right here. And screw those Reapers, we're going to _live_ it."


	11. Jake (1 of 4)

Kitty's on the warpath the next day, so every man is afraid for his life when she calls a team meeting.

Jake's nervous as he peeks into the music room. It's empty… except for Kitty's Beretta pistol, lying on top of the piano where she usually sits. So the girl is here, but she's gone for the moment. Bathroom? He's definitely on edge now; what if he's the only one lounging on the couch when Kitty comes back, and she gets pissed that he's just relaxing there and decides to shoot him in the head before he can whack her bullet out of the air? Should he just turn around, walk back out, and wait for somebody else to come along before he braves walking back in?

_No way, moron_, he chastises himself. _Only girls do that—walk in pairs the bathrooms and crap_. He can take it. He can sit on a couch alone and hope his reflexes are fast enough. They usually are. If anyone back in his old life was to ask him how the _hell_ does he manage to hit bullets with an axe that's three-feet wide, even Jake himself wouldn't know. He just… sort of… well, swings the monster. And magically, it usually seems to knock the bullet to the ground.

Keywords being_ usually_. And _magically._ One day, his luck's going to run out. Then he'll be dead. But until then, he's been pretty good at staying alive. Not-dead. Whatever the hell Sam wants everybody to call themselves. He laughs bitterly to himself as he saunters over to his usual couch—the one in the back, basically pushed against the wall on the highest tier of the stepped platforms that comprise the back of the music room. Death is cheap in this world, because they don't actually stay dead; technically, they have to be dead in the first place to arrive in this afterlife. But back in a past life, he'd been very, very lucky… up until the day he wasn't.

Jake peers curiously at his usual couch. Something about his usual hangout is a bit… off. It's not pushed up against the wall anymore; in fact, there's just enough room for a human body to fit there.

As he approaches with slow, measured steps, a choked sob escapes from behind the couch, quickly followed by at least two different sounds of "Shh!" Then some heavy, panicked breathing.

Sighing, Jake yanks his couch forward. "You guys are the worst hiders—whoa."

Artie looks up at him meekly, lying directly on top of Blaine. In turn, Blaine is sprawled on top of Sugar, his hand reaching further downward to hold Sam's mouth shut. Tears are leaking out of Sam's eyes; maybe he is _that _terrified of Kitty finding them, but Jake has the feeling that it's because Sugar's digging her three-inch sharpened fingernails into the blonde's shoulders.

The four-body pile topples over seconds after Jake yanks their support away.

"Oh god," Sam gasps as Sugar backward-somersaults to her feet, her eyes sparkling playfully as her tail flicks from right to left. "Blaine! The water!"

Blaine dives, his hand reaching between Jake's legs. "Holy shit," he gasps, leaping over the guy and hiding safely on the couch, using a pillow to hide his crotch. Instead, Blaine snatches a spray bottle off the ground behind where Jake had once been and aims it at Sugar. "Back off, cat girl, and nobody gets hurt," he snarls.

"Rowr," Sugar hisses, her cat ears flattening against her brunette hair. She backs away from Blaine and the dreaded water—then, without warning, she pounces at Sam.

Blaine's aim is remarkably good, and a tiny squirt of water hits Sugar in the face. Yowling, she changes directions in midair, shooting across the room to land on the ground next to the drum set. She's back on all four limbs within seconds, though, her back arching, her teeth bared—and wow, Jake can't believe that he's never noticed, but every single tooth is wickedly _sharp_.

Unique enters the room then, takes stock of the entire situation, and, simpering, walks to stand next to Jake. He leans over, whispering, "What, you're not going to help? You're her roommate."

"One word, hun: catfight."

Jake playfully bumps her bosom with his elbow. "I think that was two."

The black girl waves a hand at him. "Look it up, Jake; catfight _is_ one word, and it be goin' _down_ right now."

Something glows in Sugar's brown eyes, illuminating them red. Unique's body stiffens, and she mutters, "Sixth sense," to Jake as she pulls a thin metal staff out of nowhere.

Jake pulls his axe off the magnet attached to his back. Blaine and Sam notice Jake's battle-ready stance, and, despite the previous lighthearted fight to the death they'd been about to jump into, take Unique's interpretation as word and prepare for a Reaper sighting.

A pause. Sugar's eyes shine a brilliant red. Then: "Kitty's back and somebody's going to not-die."

When Kitty walks into the music room three seconds later, all weapons are stowed away and all team members are sitting innocently on their usual couches.

"Right," Kitty starts calmly, hopping onto the piano… right next to her handgun. She's not touching it, but her hand rests casually about two inches from it. Jake wonders if he could react fast enough if she did a quick draw. "First order of business: we've got somebody to thank for screwing up our medical facility."

"Weston is absent without leave," Tina murmurs as she enters the music room, Ryder following sheepishly.

Brittany prances in seconds later, tossing in a pirouette for good measure. "_Baby I got a plan/ Run away as fast as you can."_

Kitty raises an eyebrow. "Brody never runs from a good fight. Fine, first order of business…"

Jake's probably a horrible person for his first reaction being a sigh in relief when she grabs her firearm and aims, not at him, not at _anybody_ sitting on the couches, but at the noob. To his credit, though, his second reaction launches him off his butt to sail over two couches, swinging his axe right down in front of Ryder.

And just as usual, he magically hits Kitty's bullet out of the air again.

Dayum, he's one lucky son of a gun.


	12. Jake (2 of 4)

"Relax," Kitty snaps before Jake or Sam (or Ryder) can protest her action. "I shot for his left ear."

Ryder instinctively clamps a hand over his left ear. "I _like_ my ears," he objects meekly.

Jake holds his battle axe in a defensive position in front of the newbie. "Seriously, Kitty, I know shooting us guys gets you off, but could you seriously wait until the third day before you start blowing out his brains?"

Kitty's reaction is fairly predictable; Jake just holds the axe blade as a shield in front of his face, and the bullet _clinks_ off its surface.

"Kitty," Tina says softly.

Unique pipes up, "Hun, is Unique here for a meeting, or are she here just to watch you shoot off er'body's faces?"

Kitty closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath. Jake lets out the tiny breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Situation clear. He saunters back to his couch and spreads his entire lanky frame across its width, just relaxing…

Until he realizes that the noob has followed him. Jake hurriedly snaps up to a more proper sitting position to clear some butt space. Gratefully, Ryder hops next to him. "Thanks for the save," he murmurs, leaning over.

"No prob, noob," Jake grins.

Kitty opens her eyes again, placing her Beretta pistol gingerly on the piano top next to her. "Thank you, Tina and Unique, for getting us back on track." She levels them all with an authoritative look, and Jake instinctively snaps up to attention. Even though Kitty can be a raging psycho with an irresistible urge to fill men with bullets, she's _good_ at leadership. When she gets off her trauma high-horse and starts making plans, she actually becomes a decent person. It's half the reason why the _Afterlife Battlefront_ likes operations so much; it's nice when her gun is being used for your benefit and not your impeding death.

The moment Kitty snaps her fingers, the lights dim down as Artie turns the projector on. An insignia flashes onto the wall, proudly displaying _Like Hell I'm Dead Battlefront_.

"I **said **_Afterlife Battlefront_! And what big mama says, goes," demands Unique.

Blaine suggests, "What about, _No __**You're**__ Dead Battlefront_?"

"Nah, sounds like you're telling me that _I'm_ dead," Sam interjects. "Which I'm not. I'm not-dead. Hey, how 'bout—"

"Meow," Sugar interrupts. "_Kitties Battlefront._ See? It's punny._"_

Tina's face sinks behind her scarf. "So stupid."

Jake throws up his hands in exasperation. "What about _Afterlife Battlefront_ was so bad?"

"It's lame!" exclaims Sam. "I'm actually liking Artie's—"

Kitty regains the room's attention when she bounces her frying pan off Sam's head. Jake catches the bloody cast iron on its rebound; the noob stares in shock at Kitty's impeccable aim.

"Jake?"

Jake looks back up at their brutally fearless leader. "Uh… yeah," he responds lamely, tossing the pan back to her.

She catches it deftly and tucks it behind her back, whereupon it promptly disappears into the hammerspace where most of them keep stuff. Jake swears Tina has a whole arsenal of ninja stars and smoke bombs in the hammerspace portal by her waist, and Sam always manages to pull candy and some pretty decent BLTs out of nowhere when he feels like somebody needs a cheer-me-up. And Unique—that thin metal staff is even longer than Jake is, yet Unique always has it ready when she needs it.

"Alright, onto the second order of business," Kitty continues. "Thanks to Brody's unsuccessful recruiting mission with Ryder, the school no longer has a functional medical facility."

"That was his try at a recruiting mission?" Sam echoes faintly, massaging the massive lump rising out of his scalp.

Ryder poses another question before Kitty can react in frustration. "Why doesn't the school repair its own hospital?"

"Jake, explain after the meeting," Kitty orders. Jake shoots the guy a thumbs-up and continues listening. "Back on track… Operation Parachute will commence in twenty-four hours. I expect you all to be geared up and ready to go. Artie, connect us to the Guild."

"The Guild?" Ryder whispers.

"They make everything that we can't get off school grounds." Jake thumps the pommel of his battle axe on the ground. "I didn't buy this from the school gift store, you know."

Ryder grins. "I'm guessing none of the firearms have the school insignia on them either."

Jake shows him his sub-machine gun, a gorgeous PP-19 Bizon-2. "The guys down there make pretty much anything you can think of. And they can pretty much fix anything. It's not often, but every time something malfunctions—everything from a rocket launcher to Kitty's coffee maker—the guys down there can fix it."

Something lights up behind the noob's eyes. "You sure they can make or fix anything?"

"Yeah—oh hey!" He waves down Kitty's attention. "The noob needs his own gun!"

Kitty nods. "Good catch, Jake," she compliments. Neither of them notice Ryder's expression of discomfort. "I'll be sure to mention that to him."

"We've connected!" announces Artie. "We're on the line."

The projector screen flickers, revealing a man with a _ton_ of hair. Most of the wild mess atop his head is rolled into dreads, but a few of the hairs in his beard have been braided, with little neon ribbon bow ties securing their ends.

There's a beat of silence. Then Kitty cries, "Joe?"

"Hey! Kitty! S'up?" He peers into the screen. "Artie, my man! How you guys doing?"

"What in the name of _sanity_ have you done to your beard?" Kitty continues, still gawking.

Joe looks at them all strangely, his fingers reaching up to stroke his chin hair. He freezes as he feels the little neon bow ties as if just finding out their presence for the first time; his expression quickly cycles through shock, horror, bewilderment, irritation, and finally gleeful hilarity. He turns to the side and roars, "Nick! Jeff! I'll get you guys back for this!"

Laughter echoes from off-screen.

Joe turns back to Kitty and solemnly says, "Thanks for bringing that to my attention."

Kitty's face breaks into a smile, but she quickly clams back up and gets back to business. "Joe, we're headed down in six hours. Can you disable all the anti-Reaper death traps for us?"

Joe salutes her smartly. "Will do, ma'am."

Kitty steps aside and points to Ryder. "We have a new recruit. Meet Ryder."

Ryder waves. Joe waves back. "Hey man! I'm Joe, boss technician down here. You need a new weapon, don't you?"

Everybody's shocked when Ryder replies shortly, "No, I don't."


	13. Jake (3 of 4)

The entire room turns to face the new guy in various states of shock. Ryder, however, doesn't flinch, even when Kitty scowls at him, saying, "You were a bodyguard. Are you sure you don't want a weapon?"

Ryder glowers right back at her. "I told you that in confidentiality."

Kitty has the grace to look abashed. "I'm sorry. I didn't think that you would mind. It's not a degrading line of work in your time, is it?"

Jake's not sure whether the red in Ryder's face is from embarrassment or fury. Hastily, he shifts his body so that he's facing the new guy. "Hey, in our time, bodyguards are pretty kickass. Just sayin'."

The red in Ryder's face slowly washes away. "Can't I try a pacifist worldview for once?" he asks plaintively.

Kitty nods, folding her arms across her chest stubbornly. "And here I'd thought we'd gained a great asset," she snipes. "Instead, we have a liability on its way to becoming an NPC."

"Don't take it personally," Jake whispers immediately. "She's just upset."

"I'd still like to visit the Guild," Ryder interjects a bit loudly.

Kitty just nods before addressing Joe again. "We also need an entire replacement of the medical bay. Three more medical beds would be great, with all their accompanying technologies—heart monitors and such, you know the drill. Is 24 hours enough time for you to compile it all?"

Joe gives her another salute. "Should be fine."

Kitty faces the rest of the room again. "Anybody have any specific requests?"

"_Sticks and stones may break my bones,_" Brittany chirrups, "_But whips and chains excite me._"

Joe smiles good-naturedly. "That's not quite my expertise; you're going to have to ask Nick and Jeff about that."

There's a dissenting "_Hey!_" from off-screen.

Sam pipes up, "I could use another semiautomatic pistol. Glock 17s should be fine." And not subtly at all, he glances at Ryder for approval. Ryder doesn't notice, too busy staring at the ground.

"My sewing machine isn't running as efficiently as it could," Unique adds as an afterthought. "Could you guys just have Jeff fix me up a new one?"

Joe flashes her a thumbs-up. "Alright, we good to go?"

Kitty glances over the room, then salutes Joe. "Good to go, Joe. See you tomorrow." As the line terminates, she turns back to the _Afterlife Battlefront_. "Any last questions before we adjourn today's meeting? Jake, be sure to answer any of the noob's questions afterwards." After a moment's silence, she slaps the piano top. "Meeting adjourned. I will see you all tomorrow on the auditorium stage. Don't be late."

-o-o-o-o-

Ryder leaves fairly quickly, and it's not until an hour later that Jake finds him in the cafeteria. "Wait up, man!" he calls. "You have questions and I have answers."

Ryder whirls around; Jake's taken aback by the stormy expression on his face. "Oh I _have_ questions," he grits out. "You sure you're willing to answer them all?"

Jake holds up his hands in a placating manner. "As much as I can, man. I swear."

Ryder shoves his hands in his pockets—at least, he tries to, except it's almost as if his left arm has directional trouble. After two more frustrated misses, Ryder finally manages to shove his left hand into his pant pocket. "That Kitty girl," he growls. "What is _up_ with her?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Why else would I be asking?"

Jacob casually slings an arm around the new guy's shoulder and draws him into a quieter corner of the cafeteria. There's always the possibility that Tina might be hanging around in the shadows, but hopefully the dull roar of a thousand other conversations going on at the same time should be enough to drown out anything too incriminating. "I can answer that," he responds, "But listen: _this _is a breach in Kitty's confidentiality. That tidbit about the bodyguard is _nothing_ compared to what I'm about to tell you, okay? So don't let this slip, otherwise she'll have my head."

Ryder still looks fairly upset, but he folds his arms stubbornly over his chest and nods once.

"Kitty… has trouble with guys. Has she told you that she was raped?"

Ryder nods stiffly.

"Twice?"

Ryder freezes.

Jake nods. "By the same asshole. The first time at a party. She called the cops afterwards and a lot of her classmates got arrested; that's why her first high school alienated her. She told her father too—her mother had died years ago, so he was her only family. Only he didn't believe her either, because the asshole that raped her, he was like the poster child for their tiny town, and Kitty? She was _nothing_." Jake pauses to catch his breath before continuing. "The second time was a couple months later. She confronted him after cheerleading practice in the gym. There were students around, dammit. They _heard_ her begging him to stop. But they shut up when he threatened them later, and they kept treating her like shit. Especially the football team."

Jake has to stop there. The _guilt_ that washes over him is overwhelming. He has to hold his head in his hands to keep himself together for a while.

Ryder ventures, "Did you know her? I mean, back then."

"We had a couple dance classes together," Jake says vaguely. "We paired up a lot, and one day, she just started calling me… and I just talked to her. I didn't get the full story until she transferred to my school. Their football team came over for a game and they… they just _tore_ her to shreds."

"So… she has people issues," Ryder spells out slowly.

Jake hesitates. "Maybe. Not so much anymore." He laughs mirthlessly. "She has her own way of dealing. In her eyes, Sam's a small child. Brody's a watch dog. Artie's a walking encyclopedia. Blaine's gay."

"He isn't?"

"I don't know. That's a skeleton in his closet that we're respectfully not prying into until he opens it up himself. You know, Kitty's just like us," say Jake solemnly. "She's still struggling with her own skeletons, and for the most part, they're still in the closet. But we all know that every one of us is still fighting, and we respect him or her for it. Got it?"

Again, Ryder nods, glancing down at his left arm. Then, "About that… Lemme tell you a secret of my own."

For two years, her life was a living hell. She had no way out. Nobody stood up for her; she was the only one fighting for herself. In the end, she stood tall and proud and very, very alone."

Ryder seems hesitant to ask a question, so Jake gives him a wordless go-ahead. "Did she…" Ryder starts. "Did she commit suicide?"

"Nah, man," he chuckles humorlessly. "Everyone at the _Afterlife Battlefront _has gone through the worst that life has to offer; but every time we were knocked down, we got right back up. We weren't the ones to end our lives; they were ended by the same damn universe that abused us in the first place, yeah?" He punches Ryder on the shoulder for confirmation.

After a moment, Ryder nods slowly.


End file.
